


ACOMAF Collection

by SparklelyWonderful



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 21:40:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9923198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparklelyWonderful/pseuds/SparklelyWonderful
Summary: A collection of all of my one-offs, drabbles and prompts.Chapter 1: Rhysand POV of their wedding.Chapter 2: Lucien returns from the Night Court and looks back at all that has occurred in the past few months.Chapter 3: Feyre darling loses it after six days at the Spring Court, before she exits the Spring Court.Chapter 4: Chapter 4: Amren POV of Chapter 68





	1. Just a Little More

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me in my SJM trashcan on [tumblr](http://sparkleywonderful.tumblr.com/tagged/sparkleywonderful)

_I want to do it all. Get the bond declared, get married, throw a stupid party and invite everyone in Velaris – all of it._

He stood at the dais, he grinned ear to ear as he looked across the fae that had gathered to celebrate their love. The front row was filled with their family, the dreamers who had sacrificed and would continue to sacrifice for the chance to wish, all for a better world.

His breath caught, Feyre was stunning. He knew that she forewent the traditional white gown, saying something along the lines that white had never been her color. The dress was the color of a starless night sky, a modest cut that hugged every one of her delicious curves. Her sleeves were bare, on her right arm she proudly displayed the tattoo that signified her first vow to him and to their court. Her left arm she displayed the matching tattoo that once signified a bargain, but transformed into a symbol that they would never be alone.

As she walked towards him she began to glow, he gasped as the glow lite the dress into a starry night. She would glow for him, always for him.

A female voice calls to him, “Rhys.”

It was a voice he has always loved, her voice brought forward truth keeping him grounded. The problem he has found is that although truth can bring a soul solace, it can also rip it to shreds. In a soft voice reserved for fallen soldiers, “Rhys.”

The fantasy faded as his cousin called him to a reality he did not want to live. He didn’t know how to respond, he barely knew how to breathe. What was centuries compared to a few months, months that he could count on one hand? What was centuries compared to a week?  If he could have done it all over, he would have told her sooner. If he do it all over, he would have stayed at that cabin and let the world fall around them. In the end it didn’t matter.

“She’s gone Mor, the bond is gone. I should have… Why is everything I love taken away from me?”

He could not look at his cousin, she knew he was waiting for the truth she couldn’t or wouldn’t give him. Maybe the Suriel would tell him. There had to be a reason, he could not be this cursed by the cauldron. The cauldron led him to a person that saw him and instead of running, she loved him with every part of her mortal heart. And she was gone. He would never feel her again.

He prayed to the Mother asking for her to walk through that door and smile at him. Hell, he would let her throw as many shoes as she wanted at him, call him a prick a thousand times. He would take any piece of her and cherish it.

He felt a hand grab his forearm, he didn’t care where the wind and smoke was taking him. Maybe if he just let go right now, he would fall into the shadow realm, forgotten and gone. The smoke faded as the ground solidified and a warm breeze carrying a hint of strawberries engulfed his senses. He did not have the energy to wear his high lord mask, he didn’t care.

He didn’t know if it was the cruelty of the Cauldron or the coldness of the Mother, for him to be standing in the same room she had stayed those many months ago. With his eyes still closed, he could almost hear an echo of her, “To the people who look at the stars and wish, Rhys.” His world was gone and with it his dreams died, the stars would never be the same for him.

He was hallucinating. They had warned him if he did not use his powers that it would destroy him or he would go insane. Either option was preferable to this reality, but a voice barely audible punched him in the gut, “Rhys.”

How?  For the first time in five centuries he was not sure what to do. He did not know if he should run, winnow, or fall to his knees. He wasn’t sure if he should cry, scream, roar or laugh. His body moved on its own accord, to that voice. In that moment he didn’t care how. She was here, she wasn’t gone. He let loose a sob when he felt a glimmer of love down a bond he thought severed.


	2. The Darkness Calls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2: Lucien returns from the Night Court and looks back at all that has occurred in the past few months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Lucien, when I read the books I tried to pick up on what others said to and of him. During the events of Hybern, Lucien was more surprised that Ianthe sold Feyre’s sisters to the king, then he was of the mating bond reveal.

Lying in bed tired from the day’s events, after months of sleeping on the ground it should have been easy to fall asleep.  As if the Cauldron wanted him to answer his own question _why the Night Court was so much better_ , numerous events kept playing in his head on repeat.

He stood in Tamlin’s study, holding a note of five short sentences. He was almost heart broken by the letter, surely they deserved more than just five lines. “What do you mean she cannot read?”

Tamlin growled his response, something that he was doing more and more each day. “Feyre is illiterate, the note is a fake. Go to the Night Court and bring her back.”

His memories warped to the second trial, the ceiling was close to close. He watched as she grabbed the second lever and hissed before glancing at the tattoo, Rhysand’s tattoo. She reached again for the second lever, and then reached for the first lever. But before pulling the third she had looked up at Rhysand.

Tamlin was wrong, she was not illiterate, she had spent hours in the library. When he checked on her before his morning patrol she would be sitting reading a book, when he returned she would have barely moved. A little voice in the back of his mind, _oh but not always, only after the wedding_.

That little nagging voice called forward his memories of the wedding. She had stopped before a cluster of red rose petals. The look of terror washed over her face before guilt and despair took hold. Feyre stood, not moving, glancing at him, then to Tamlin and to Ianthe, before returning her gaze to the red petals. When Tamlin reached for her, she took a step back.

The whoring prick purred, _“At least, Feyre seemed to think so.”_

She was going to say no, and somehow the prick knew it. He hadn’t come to piss off Tamlin, he had come to help her.  

His memories whorled to her return from the first week. Not only was she in one piece, she had come back with a little more life, the dark circles had begun to fade. She had a little more bite, almost a purpose, but by the end of the interrogation the little bud of life was gone. It took one night for the night terrors to return and two days for the dark circles to claim her face.  

His memories flashes again as he picked the emerald off the foyer floor. What had they done?  How did they know that she was in danger?

\- - - - - - -

They were back in the Spring Court, trying to regroup their search for Feyre, when they received a letter from the Summer Court informing them of the blood rubies. She had been so close.

“Tarquin, you know that she is being controlled, please recall the blood ruby.”

Tarquin laughing, “Don’t be as blind as your High Lord Lucien. Feyre is many things, but being controlled is not one of them.”

“Why’d you let them come here?”

“You know he saved us Under the Mountain. One word from him and we would have all been very dead. Lucien my friend, be careful there is something between them. The way he looks at her and she has sway over him, no one has sway over Rhysand. He was different than from Under the Mountain, the whoring prick we knew and feared only surfaced when the princess threatened to return Feyre to Tamlin.”

“What are you saying Tarquin?”

Tarquin looked at him with a sad grin, “Lucien, remember her last moments, before she snapped her neck and you’ll know what I am saying.”

His memories flashed back. Rhysand had picked up the ash knife. Not Tamlin. Not Himself. No Rhysand the most evil High Lord, Amarantha’s whore had picked up the ash knife. He lunged for the queen with every intent to kill. Over and over again until he could no barely move, even then he was still trying to get to her. To save her or to die with her, it was unclear. Feyre begged for him, asked for Amarantha to stop attacking Rhysand. Not to beg for her own life, but the life of another. In those final moments, Rhysand screamed for her as if his world would end with her death.

Without discussion, five High Lords that had never met the human girl stepped forward. His father would have never been the first, the last, but never the first to step forward and grant immortal life. Without a doubt in his mind he now knew that Rhysand had called them forward, caused them to act to save her.

His memories flashed to the events of today in those cursed Illyrian Mountains. She looked as if the Night Court had breathed life into her body and soul. She looked every ounce the warrior she was dressed as. He could now see why the letter only contained five lines, they were the nicest five lines she could write to the people she trusted and who in turn hurt her.

She was right the human girl died and he had failed to see it.  Oh yes Feyre, the darkness has taught you many things, but it has also called you home.


	3. Six Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3: Feyre darling loses it after six days at the Spring Court, before she exits the Spring Court.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is nowhere near how ACOWAR will play out, but right now I need this and it is fanfiction.

Six. Six Cauldron damned days.

Dinner was as it has always been, too much food for three people. Tamlin sitting at the head of the table, oblivious to the world around him. Lucien sitting, but instead of his normal banter he just stared at his High Lord. Angry with him for not allowing him to rescue his mate. Angry with him for this bargain. Angry for the time he has sat on his ass. Tamlin looked up to Lucien, and then returned his focus to his plate.

Nothing had changed. It only took him one day. One day to not fulfill his empty promise to include me, that things would be different.

It took me two days to realize that he didn’t want for it to be different. He wanted to go back in time, back to his easy banter with Lucien, his time hunting the monsters Amarantha sent over his boarders. He wanted that human girl who died back, so he could love and protect her.

On day three, I realized that most of his court had abandoned him. Lucien was one of the few left and I knew that he was barely holding on. He knew my secret, that magical eye of his knew right away. He could see the tendrils of night rolling off of me. He about drowned on a sip of wine when he noticed my tattoo at dinner that night.

The following day Lucien came to me. Both of us had awoken from a nightmare, retreating to the open night sky away from the walls closing in on us. We cried over everything we had swept for so long under a rug. We spent the rest of the night catching up. It was then that I realized the High Lord that we had once loved was gone. Broken.

Yesterday he had locked me in the manor while he went off to Hybern. This time there was no need to panic, it would have taken me less than half a thought to break the wards. I told him that I understood it was for my protection and swallowed the bile raising in my throat as I thanked him for it. That is when I learned that there was zero sense in spying, not only did the King guard his secrets. Tamlin didn’t share the ones that were given to him, not even with Lucien.

Six days. Six increasingly frustrating days and it was taking all my being not to mist the entire manor.

“Did you paint anything today?”

Always asking if I painted, “no, I read in the library all day, an interesting novel about a female assassin, whose is a lost heir to a mighty kingdom.”

“What?”

Oh, oh this was too good, he thought that I was still illiterate. “I read a book.”

“How?”

Rhys’s words came flooding back, _You choose every day. Forever._ I let the docile human girl mask fall to the ground, there was nothing to gain from staying in this broken court. It was time to go home.

I couldn’t help it, I let a little of the protagonist I was reading seep through, “I’m going with the same way you do.”

I was met with shocked silence from Tamlin and a smirk of a smile from Lucien. I tried and failed to stifle the smirk on my face, “did you even notice me after the mountain?”

“Of course I did.”

“Then how did you miss the time I spent in the library instead of painting? I almost died during the second trial because of a simple short coming. That first week, Rhys taught me the basics and I practiced. I was reading full novels by the second visit.”

He went to say something, but the fire in my blood was singing.

“You LOCKED me up. Did you fail to remember that I spent three months locked in a cell? You locked me up, after I had torn my soul into shreds for you, for the love that I had for you. I killed three innocent fae for you. THREE. Those stains will never fade from my mortal heart, while you sat on your ass and did NOTHING. During the first task, Lucien shouted, Lucien helped, while you just sat there. During my second trial you knew I could not read, you could have helped. Instead, you just sat there! Lucien and I could have died and you just sat there. Did you ever ask yourself how we survived that second trial? Rhys! We survived that second trial because of Rhys.

“Feyre”

“That one night, when I went unnoticed, you didn’t try to free me. Instead you were just interested in fucking me. One last fuck before the human girl dies. Who saved our asses that night?! Then my third trial came and went, after I tore my soul to shreds, while she was breaking every bone in my body, what did you do? NOTHING! You hadn’t tried to kill her, you didn’t pick up a knife and even try.”

“Feyre”

“Every night I awoke scared, covered in sweat that felt like their blood. You never once reached for me, you never once got off your ass to comfort me. You left me to break. I felt alone. I felt unworthy of you.”

“Feyre”

“I gave my life to free you and to give your power back. I DIED! DIED! And when we returned here, you locked me up in a beautiful cage. You wanted me to be cloistered for your peace of mind. What would have happened if my powers continued to manifest and I didn’t learn how to use them?”

“Feyre”

“When you LOCKED me up, I panicked and then I turned into a literal ball of fear, ice, and fire. He didn’t kidnap me, he rescued me! And when I told you I was happy and safe, you ignored me. I was free to come back here any time I wanted, all I had to do was ask. It was always my CHOICE and I CHOSE him. I chose him because he saved me, not you. He loved me, not you!”

“Feyre, please.”

“I’m going home. Lucien, it is your choice if you stay or go.”

I’m not sure I had even seen Lucien move as fast as he did to grab my hand. I turned to Tamlin, “I loved you. I loved you and died for you. The only reason I have not killed you is because you were once good to me. We are over, and if you ever pull another stunt like you did with Hybern, I _will_ kill you.”

I winnowed us to the familiar red ornate carpet. Home. I almost wept as I wrapped my arms around my mate.

“Feyre darling, missing my wingspan that badly, you only lasted six days?”

“Prick!”


	4. Where is She?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4: Amren POV of Chapter 68

_Amren said, “The King of Hybern is old Rhys – very old. Do not linger.”_

_“We’ll be in and out before you miss us,” Rhysand said._

\- - - - - - -

Something is wrong, everything in my millennia old bones told me it was all wrong. They should have been back by now, she should have been back by now.

That fucking bonecarver … if she died, he would die too. I would go back into that prison for him.

I reassured myself, she would survive, I’m not certain if she was cauldron blessed or just had the natural instinct to survive. Maybe both. She didn’t see the world the way we did, I’m not even sure she saw the world as most humans did. Even before she was made, she was different.

_Too much time has passed, where is she?_

I liked Rhys, I had always liked Rhys, his power intrigued me after all these millennia, but it was more than that. I had seen so many High Lords all absorbed with their power, getting more power or protecting the little power they had. Rhysand dreamed, dreamed like one other I had known before. I kept him at distance, I could not, would not, love again. 

I had grown to like the others as well. All of them survivors, all of them had escaped their own prison. That is what made us a family, we had all escaped a hell. All had refused to accept the fate that was handed to each us. We dreamed for ourselves, and we dreamed for a better future.

_Where is she?_

Something in my chest ached. I almost collapsed at the feeling as I sat on my bed. Mother’s tits, when did this happen. Dammit I was starting to sound like Rhys’s dog. But the girl, I couldn’t say her name, saying her name would hurt, the girl made my heart ache.

I’m not sure when it happened, if it was all the little visits to my apartment, the way she instantly fell into the group, how she handled herself at the Summer Court, when we almost drown, our soul sharing laughter, how bold she was. I had watched her survive, I had watched her fight, I watched her fall in love again and I was proud of her.

_Where is she?_

I remembered the last time my heart ached. I had lied to the girl when she asked how I had become part of the inner circle. “ _Rhys offered to make me his second. No one had ever asked me before, so I said yes, to see what it might be like. I found I enjoyed it.”_ Such a lie, I am not even sure Rhys knew, that I had once served as Second, millennia ago, for another that I had grown to love.

It had been centuries since I last visited my friend the Suriel. We were both older than Prythian, I had went to seek his guidance when I had felt a shift in my ancient bones. He knew the history of this world as well as I did, but he held a power I did not. He could sense fates, when the cauldron called to him, he would guide the game players, guide them to their fate.  He had never deemed to tell me what mine was. Why I was left behind in this world, alone, never told me if I was a key player in its fate. Though I had never asked. Even now I am not sure I wanted to know my fate. That information could be dangerous. 

During our last visit, he guided me to a young Illyrian half breed, normally I did not ask about his plans, he had already guided me a few times before and it had always benefited me or the world. But this time, I did ask. _“What good will I be to an Illyrian half breed? They are war mongering idiots!”_ He chuckled and did that annoying clicking of his fingers. _“This Illyrian half breed will be the most powerful high lord in history.”_ I huffed, great all we need is another arrogant High Lord, too consumed with his power. Sensing my thoughts, _“Oh but this one will be different, this one will dream.”_ He continued, _“You will need to be Second again.”_ I simply responded, “I doubt that.” I had no desire to fail as second again. Before he vanished, he simply chuckled _“You’ll see.”_

__Where is she?_   
_

My memories brought me back to the current situation. I winnowed to the town house, when they returned, if they returned, they would return to the town house. Rhys never asked how I could winnow into the town hose, I am not even sure he noticed, the few times that I did. Although a dreamer, there were times that he was arrogant. 

I paced the entry way, the first place we had laughed. It had been centuries since I had laughed, truly laughed, and that prick had to interrupt it. Not only for me but for Feyre. Even now the thought of the water wraiths rescue, the reason why they resolved to rescue us brought a chuckle to my lips. Seriously, she had shown compassion to a water wraith, but she looked at me differently as well. I hope that was not the last time we would laugh together. 

_Where is she?_

She looked at all of us like she could see the foundations of our souls. Like she knew what each one of us needed, what made each of us face another day. She saw Rhys, she could see past the multitude of masks that he shamefully wore. In all fairness she knew Rhys the best, but that was to be expected, they had survived hell together. 

As she became apart of us, she could see Mor’s pain, Azriel’s battles, and Cassian’s fire. She could see me. 

_Where is she?_

As if in answer, Rhys slammed into the floor with Cassian and Azriel. I looked at them blood, too much blood. Rhys was covered in it, but did not seem injured.

“Shit.” Cassian’s wings were damaged, they were shredded and he was losing too much blood. I continued to swear as I assessed Azriel’s chest. I couldn’t heal them both. I had to stop the bleeding to Cassian’s wings if he even had a chance at survival. Both Illyrians were in mortal danger. In my panicked assessment of the Illyrians, I hadn’t noticed who was missing.

I stared at Rhys, “Where is she?” it was not a question, but a demand. I needed to know where she was. My heart started aching. I couldn’t remember the last time it beat so fast, so unsure, it would be my fault. 

“Get the book out of here,” was his response. His response to, where the fuck his mate was. My power started to grow in response to my emotion. I ignored his request.

“Where is she?” I said a bit more forcibly.

Mor suddenly appeared, I took a step back to assess her as I continued to slow Cassian’s bleeding. He couldn’t die, I wouldn’t let him die. Mor was panting and looked like she just had walked through hell and barely escaped to tell the story. Shit.

I couldn’t fail again, not again. I turned my attention back at Rhys, keeping the panic out of my voice as I repeated, “Where is she?”

Mor finally responded, “Tamlin offered passage through his lands and our heads on platters to the king in exchange for trapping Feyre, breaking her bond, and getting to bring her back to the Spring Court. But Ianthe betrayed Tamlin – told the king where to find Feyre’s sisters. So the king had Feyre’s sisters brought with the queens – to prove he could make them immortal. He put them in the Cauldron. We could do nothing as they were turned. He had us by the balls.”

Shit, shit, shit. She would die for her sisters, just as I would die for mine. She would die for each of us. She didn’t know that she put us back together after the mountain. She didn’t know how much each of us, even me, had grown to love her, to need her. I turned to Rhysand, I needed more information, almost pleading “Rhysand.”

Quietly, too quietly he responded, “We were out of options, and Feyre knew it. So she pretended to free herself from the control Tamlin thought I’d kept on her mind. Pretended that she … hated us. And told him she’d go home – but only if the killing stopped. If we went free.”

She was a gods damned fool! And we were lucky to have her, even though she self-sacrificed herself again. I knew that was part of her soul, she would always sacrifice for the ones she loved, even if it meant her death or worse to be shoved in a prison for all of her immortality, if it met we were free.

The king was old, but it should be impossible. I needed to know. “And the bond?”

Rhys look like he was breaking. Shit, shit, shit. Mor answered this time, “She asked the king to break the bond. He obliged.”

No, no one could break the bond. It had never been done before, not even by the most powerful. The cauldron blessed bond was impossible to break, but I once believed that a dead mortal human could not be remade into a fae, death was death, even for us. “That’s impossible, that sort of bond cannot be broken.”

More simply responded, “The king said he could do it.”

“The king is a fool, that sort of bond _cannot_ be broken.” I hoped I was right. I couldn’t bring myself to look at Rhys. The king had the Cauldron, he could have broken the bond with that power. 

“No, it can’t,” he whispered.

I looked at Rhys, I watched as he gathered as much composure has he could, before he continued. “The king broke the bargain between us. Hard to do, but he couldn’t tell that it wasn’t the mating bond.”

I loosened a breath that I was unaware I was holding. She was still alive. She was still mated to Rhys. There was still hope.

It was Mor who asked, “Does – does Feyre know –”

“Yes, and now my mate is in our enemy’s hands.”

I wanted to slap him, I wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. What in the Cauldron’s name were we still standing here for? We should be in the Spring Court leveling it to the ground. 

“Go get her, _Right now_.”

“ _No._ ” The little prick responded with a no, I was so shocked all I could do was gape at him. I was older than Prythian, I had seen everything and was so shocked by his response that I gaped.

Rhys replied to the room, “Weren’t you listening to what Feyre said to him? She promised to destroy him – from within.”

Mor had the sense to pale as she said, “She’s going into that house to take him down. To take them all down.”

Rhys simply nodded, as if this whole situation was perfectly fine, “She is now a spy – with a direct line to me. What the King of Hybern does, where he goes, what his plans are, she will know. And report back.”

She was going back to her prison, he was letting her go back to her prison. How could he? I thought he loved her. My temper was growing, not many things set me off. I normally feigned my temper, it kept people afraid of me, kept them at arm’s length. It was my wall, the wall I created to keep my heart safe after all of these millennia. And she broke my walls, she broke them without me even realizing what she had done. If he wasn’t going to see reason, I was going to make him see it.

“She’s your mate, not your spy, go get her.”  

Quietly a little too quietly, he responded, “She is my mate. And my spy … And she is the High Lady of the Night Court.”

My world spun as I blurted, “Not – not consort?”

“Not consort, not wife. Feyre is High Lady of the Night Court.”

\- - - - - - -

After the healers arrived, I returned to my apartment and laid on my bed. Replaying the day in my head. She was alive and she was my High Lady. There had not been a High lady in over five millennia. The Night Court was the last to have a High Lady. When the Suriel had sent me to the Illyrian half breed, I never thought it would lead to this.

It seemed like yesterday, when I first went to Rhys. I had watched him from the shadows of the camp for days. He reminded me so much of Briana, it was as if she had been reborn. He shared the same blue-black hair of my first High Lady. He even shared her feline grace. I kept my distance as I had watched his interactions with the Illyrians. Most of them he kept at a guarded distance, but there were two Illyrians that I could sense he had formed a type of brotherhood with. All three of them were powerful, not as powerful as me, but compared to their kind, they could do a massive amount of damaged before they were stopped, if they were stopped.

One day I followed him as he ventured far from the Illyrian camp, deep into the Illyrian mountains. I watched as he released his tendrils of power, learning to control them. I watched and noted how these tendrils were a different form then the current and previous High Lords, their tendrils were full of fear, nightmares, and death. These tendrils, these tendrils of night I knew, they were Briana’s tendrils, tendrils of dreams. I let them wash over me, I wanted to feel them again, to feel that there was hope in the world, to momentarily calm my heart, my soul. I could sense his surprise as he asked “Who are you?”

I had a feeling that it was not very often that someone surprised him.  The darkness faded and I stumbled, stumbled as he appeared before me. He had a beautiful masculine face, but those eyes. Those eyes were a shade so blue that they were violet and I knew that when he was happy that they would sparkle with the stars, just as Briana’s had. The Suriel I decided was a PRICK! 

I knew my path, I knew that with him I could redeem myself. I have been protecting him since that day. Advising him before and after he became High Lord, helping him hone his powers. This time, this time we would defeat Hybern. This time, the High Lady of Night Court would not die in my arms. 

**Author's Note:**

> I always welcome constructive criticism. For me this is an outlet, I have no desire to become an actual writer, I am just a fan with wild ideas. 
> 
> Come find me in my SJM trashcan on [tumblr](http://sparkleywonderful.tumblr.com/tagged/sparkleywonderful)


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